


memory 9.5: something similar

by valety



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, POV Second Person, Selectively Mute Link, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-24
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-10 04:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10428801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: A memory about an elixir, baked apples, and a conversation.Or, Link and Zelda both have things they would like to do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> botw is good, so here is my contribution to the fandom. I almost certainly got some details wrong. don't try and pick a fight with me about that, please. if you do, I will wrestle you and win
> 
> there is no particular reason why he had to be making baked apples specifically. I just like them. if you got a problem with that, I will once more wrestle you and win

A memory. The fields to the northwest of Hyrule Castle. Not the flowers the princess had initially been interested in documenting, but a clearing further down. A place where you could build a fire without having to worry about some poor endangered species being set alight. Horses waiting, patient. Low flames licking at dry wood, crackling as you roll the apples in the cooking pot. The air smells bright, equal parts cinnamon and sunshine. You are silent as always. The princess is not.

“I’m almost grateful that we had that run-in with those keese earlier,” she says, lifting the flask up to the light. Sunlight catches on the glass. The mixture inside is thick, teal, and bubbling. “They’re pests, of course, but their remains are just what we needed in order to draw out the properties of that specimen we caught.”

By _we_ , the princess likely means that _she_ caught it, then accidentally released it in the scuffle that ensued upon her trying to force-feed it to you, prompting you to chase after the frog guiltily for her. But that seems like an awful lot of words, and you’re too pleased with how casually she groups the two of you together now to care much anyway. You think anyone would probably be pleased after weeks of enduring the princess’s cold shoulder, but that doesn’t make the energy she now displays so readily around you any less rewarding.

It’s astonishing, actually, how different she can be in private, particularly when it comes to her studies. You’d known she was passionate about her research, but you hadn’t realized the depth of her enthusiasm until the moment you’d found yourself staring down a handful of frog. You can’t be angry, though, not when she’d set about preparing the elixir afterwards with such energy and precision that you’d nearly been as absorbed in the process as she had been. She had made it seem as simple and natural as cooking, as if it was something even _you_ could learn.

You cast a glance behind you, away from the cooking apples and back towards the princess. She’s still examining the elixir with shining eyes, but when she sees you turn, she lowers the flask to meet your gaze. With a quiet _hem,_ she adjusts her posture, adopting what you now recognize to be her Dignified Air.

“I allowed my excitement to get the best of me before, and I apologize for that,” she says. Although her tone is contrite, her cheeks are still flushed with clear excitement. You give a slight wave of your hand, a way of saying _it’s fine_ without speaking. Her smile widens. Voice picking up, she adds, “Of course, I wouldn’t normally expect you to swallow a frog—still, what I’ve prepared _should_ go down a bit easier. I anticipate that it will have a stimulating effect, providing you with a temporary burst of energy. That is what the research from the castle indicates, at any rate. Previously we had only been able to achieve that effect through…but you don’t need to know all _that_ , of course.”

Like blowing out a candle, the light in her eyes fades. Slowly, she lowers the flask that she’d been cradling with such care before, falling silent.

You’re not sure what to say, then. Only seconds ago she had been speaking so quickly it had been as though the words could hardly wait to leave her mouth. 

Thoughts click through your mind, as unsteadily and arrhythmically as the snap and pop of the fire. You wonder: would it be better to speak up yourself, now? To tell her it’s okay, that you enjoy hearing what she has to say, that’d you actually just been thinking about how nice it was to have her fill the silence you so often carry with you? Or would it be better to let the matter slide? Your relationship has been improving lately, although you’re still not sure what changed, and you don’t want to risk ruining that by injuring her pride with a response that she might read as merely humouring her.

But if you don’t, then…

You swallow, and in the end, you say nothing. Instead, you give the apples another poke to roll them over. They’ll be ready soon, and while you may not be at a point where you can talk completely normally with her just yet, at least you can still make her something that tastes good. Something sweet. She likes sweet things, according to the rumours you’ve heard. You do too. It’s nice, that you can have something similar like that. It makes it easier to believe that you might truly be friends.

It was fortunate that you’d found that apple tree nearby. The princess had been insistent that the elixir was best not taken on an empty stomach, but she’d seemed reluctant to return to the castle for lunch, despite the fact that the noon sun was directly overhead and both of your stomachs had been grumbling after that frog chase. Still, you think you managed pretty well: the apples are packed with nuts and spices that you’d been able to find nearby, and the smell emanating from the cooking pot is downright mouth-watering.

You wish you could have done more, though. Maybe a proper meal. If you just had meat, and possibly some of those wild peppers you’d found the other day, maybe you could…

“Your face,” the princess says, suddenly much closer than she had been a minute ago. You jump, almost dropping the stick with which you’d been tending to the apples. Somehow she’d crept beside you without you noticing. “That look of concentration…you wear it when you wield a sword and bow as well. Do you approach all of your endeavours with such intensity? Even something like this?”

 _Something like this._ She says it with a learned disdain, the voice of one who has been taught what matters and knows that it’s not this. It’s the way she describes her work when not already caught up in her own excitement.  

It’s not a question you can answer with a simple nod or shake of your head. Although it’s difficult, you somehow manage to say, “I like to cook.”

The princess blinks, draws back. It’s clearly not the answer she expected. Small wonder—so much of the energy she’s seen from you has been channelled into training or fighting. You’ve not had the opportunity to be much more than the princess’s appointed knight around her, just as she’s not had the opportunity to be much more than the princess.

“Is this…” she begins. She seems to struggle with finding the words meant to come next, struggling to give shape to whatever untouched thought she has in mind. “…something you would like to do, then?”

It’s something you’re doing right _now,_ in fact, you almost say. But you can’t respond to a question that sincere with sarcasm.

You can’t respond at all, actually, not when you’ve already spoken so recently. Your body knows silence so well that your voice sometimes seems to be a distant thing. Fortunately, you have something with which to buy yourself time.

You turn back to the apples, to the fire. She might like them, you think. If she does, then maybe this is something you can do for her again in the future. Perhaps the next time you accompany her on an outing like this. Not apples, necessarily, but cooking in general. That can be your share of things, if she’s so willing to be patient with you, so eager to explain the way she sees the world when she forgets that it’s not something she’s meant to love that way.  

“Yes,” you say at last, looking up from the pot and back to her. “It is.”

You try and smile. It’s faint, you know it is, but the princess sees it nonetheless, and she slowly smiles back.

The fields to the northwest of Hyrule Castle. The sun rolling through the sky, breaking through the clouds, smiling at you with blue-green eyes. The snapping of the fire, the rustling of the grass, all accompanied by the hesitant cadence of the princess’s voice as you offer her a share of apple and she once again begins to speak.

And, gradually, the memory fades.


End file.
